“Merde.” She turned aside with a hard shake of her head. “My child may never trust you again.”
While he painfully agreed with that possibility, Lady Nia could still make all the difference in this debacle. Surely she knew that. “You can tell her of our plan to set Miss Hampshire up in a new life as my way of helping the general. Tell her I was not visiting the brothel for anything other than to speak with the woman and consult Burns about a way to trap our assassin.”
“And how do you expect me to convince her of your fine, upstanding character when she will not see me, either?” Lady Nia spun around and shook a finger at him. “I will not clean up your mess for you! You are a damned fool. I cannot believe you did not tell her. Never keep secrets from your wife. Never! Have you no sense whatsoever?” She glared at him, then slowly narrowed her eyes. “Or are all your words merely that? Pretty little words. Platitudes to get what you want. Are you even capable of loving someone enough to do what is best for them no matter what anyone else thinks, or how uncomfortable it may make you?” She threw up her hands and turned her back on him again. “You may have lost her forever this time.” She sank into a chair, closed her eyes, and rubbed her temples with shaking hands.
Merritt just stood there staring at him.
“Well?” Nash resettled his stance and braced himself. “Say it. I can see you are about to burst with the need to do so.”
His friend slowly shook his head. “I never thought you a foolish man until now.” He sauntered closer. “You tossed away the love of a fine lady just because you wished to avoid the unpleasantness that conversation would stir.” He shook his head again. “I changed my mind. You are not a fool. You are a bloody coward.”
Nash wouldn’t argue with either of them because they were both right. He deserved everything they said and more. Hescrubbed his face with both hands, hating himself more than his precious Sophie ever would. “Tell me what I can do,” he begged. “Tell me how to repair this damage I have done.”
Lady Nia slowly shook her head. “I am at a loss. I have no idea what my daughter might do because of this.” She fixed him with a hard look. “Sophie feels foolish and betrayed. I know that much. She may run, and if she wishes to hide from us—we will be hard-pressed to find her.”
“She cannot steal away. All her things are here.” The ridiculousness of what he had just said settled like a crushing weight on his shoulders. If Sophie wished to run, she had the resources to do so, and Celia would do anything in her power to help her. His precious swan would want for nothing.
“Write to her,” the dowager said in a tone that instilled little confidence that such a plan might work. “I shall write to her as well, and also write to Celia. All we can do is hope that one of them will read our letters and give us the opportunity to speak with Sophie and convince her that you have not strayed.” She flinched as though in pain. “Have your general write to her as well. Perhaps his letter will get through, whereas ours will more than likely end up as ash in the grates of Hasterton House.”
“Write to her?” He grimaced at the foolhardy plan. That could take days. He wanted things settled right now, this very hour, if possible. “I am not writing to her. I am going back over there, and, one way or another, I will see my Sophie.”
“Did it ever occur to you that you are behaving like a man filled with guilt?” Lady Nia pinned him with a harsh glare that cut him to ribbons.
“I am filled with guilt, but not for being unfaithful to my beloved wife. I have not nor ever will do that to her. But I do feel guilty for not telling her of my plans before I carried them out.”
Loud voices in the hallway made all of them turn and stare at the closed double doors.
Thornton opened one of them and stuck his head into the parlor while keeping his body wedged in the space to prevent whoever was in the hall from entering the parlor. “Mr. Forthrite insists on speaking with you, my lord.”
“It may be too late now,” the man growled as he shoved around the butler, marched to the front windows, and yanked aside the drapes. “The carriage is just now pulling away. I feared as much.”
“What carriage?” Nash joined him at the window in time to catch a glimpse of a shiny black hackney as it rambled out of sight. He spun around to Forthrite. “Tell me. Now!”
“A well-dressed fellow,” Forthrite said. “Tall. Older. Beady black eyes and a long nose. Real rat-faced, he was. Got out of the carriage and went into Hasterton House. In there for just a little while. When he came out, Lady Sophie was on his arm.”
“He took my Sophie?” Lady Nia shoved in between them, her voice filled with panic. “Why did you not stop him? Why did you not shoot him?”
Forthrite gave her a bewildered look, then an awkward dip of his chin. “She went with him like she meant to go with him, my lady. Near as I could tell, the man did nothing to force her. In fact, they seemed right friendly with each other.”
Nash caught hold of his mother-in-law’s arm and turned her to face him, suspicion pounding through him. “Who is this man?”
“Virgil Nevillestone. Sophie calls himuncle, because he was my husband’s closest friend. They were even closer than most brothers.”
Something in her eyes, in the way she held herself, told Nash there was so much more that she wasn’t saying. “And yet you don’t seem to trust him. You even wanted him shot. Why?”
She drew herself up, lifting her chin higher. “Because he is the one behind the threats.” She wet her lips as if about to double over and retch. “The man is deranged.”
Nash grabbed her by the shoulders, wanting to shake her hard but somehow finding the control not to do so. “What do you know, mother-in-law? All of it! Theentiretruth, if you would be so kind.”
Merritt rested a hand on Nash’s arm and gripped it firmly. “Let her go, Nash.”
“He has every right to be enraged,” Lady Nia told Merritt. She huffed a bitter laugh. “When he learns the truth, he may kill me—and rightly so. I deserve the worst punishment that can be meted out.”
As the ominous dread within him grew, Nash held up a hand and silenced them all. He jerked his chin at Forthrite. “Follow that carriage. You, Tomes, and Freedly. If you can safely get a killing shot off, do it.”
Forthrite shot out of the room, and Nash turned back to Lady Nia. “Make haste, my lady. I have my love to save.”
“When I created the fake Earl of Rydleshire, I unknowingly imprisoned my precious daughter. I thought I was securing a stable future for her, but instead, I created a lonely, dangerous trap.” Lady Nia folded her hands and held them poised in front of herself while standing proud and tall. “Everything was fine until Sophie got older. She became so lonely when others her age debuted and found husbands. She was especially lonely after Frannie and Celia, hersisters, made wonderful love matches.” The dowager countess frowned at the floor, her sadness aging her. “I came up with a plan to shatter the walls of my dear child’s prison, and when Queen Charlotte agreed to help, I thought all would be well—especially because Sophie had loved you. Even though she never spoke of you, I knew she still cared.” She lifted her gaze to his, trembling as she spoke. “But then the one whomthe queen and I trusted to help us make the threats seemrealenough to convince Sophie turned on me and revealed a side of himself I had never seen before.”
